


Calm My Beating Heart

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Awkward Kissing, Awkward Tension, Drabble, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Missing Persons, Realization, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-27 02:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20038405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: When you touch your soulmate, it brings about a certain emotional response. For Derek, it’s calmness. For Stiles, it’s focus. It just happened so naturally, they hadn’t realised it was happening.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Успокой моё сердце](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045710) by [Koma_ami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koma_ami/pseuds/Koma_ami)

Stiles grew up listening to the stories about how the smallest touch from your soulmate can change your world, flood you with emotions, and make everything okay. He’d seen it too—when his mother took his father’s hand, he saw the way the stress drained from his father’s face and the way his mother became more courageous. He’d seen the way Boyd became more self-assure when his skin brushed against Erica’s, and she became more confident and bold.

He’d seen it time and time again, but had never felt it. It had gotten to a point where he thought it’d never happen to him. It was then that he finally realised it had; he just hadn’t noticed when it did.

It had felt so right—so natural—that he didn’t realise how many times it had happened.

The time in the veterinary clinic when Derek had collapsed on the ground. Stiles remembered the way his hand shook as he balled it into a fist, unable to think of any other way to wake the beta. He remembered the pain that shot up his arm as his knuckles collided with the man’s face. He remembered the way Derek bolted upright, grabbing Stiles’ wrist, and in that moment, Derek stilled—calm—and Stiles let a breath fall past his lips as the adrenaline subsided and his mind cleared.

The same happened again when Stiles found Derek unconscious in the hospital. And again when he climbed into the back of the ambulance with Cora—his hand had brushed against Derek’s arm and he’d felt it; he felt Derek relax under his touch, and the panic and fear that clouded Stiles’ thoughts seemed to drain away as his mind became focused.

It had happened time and time again without him noticing. It just felt right.

He only realised it was happening one day at Derek’s loft.

They stood side-by-side, looking down at the scattered pieces of paper and open books that covered Derek’s desk, trying to work out how to deal with their latest supernatural mystery.

Derek began to tense, balling his hands into fists as he leant forward on the edge of the stone desk.

Stiles couldn’t focus, his eyes were darting from page to page, reading lines of text but not absorbing anything they said. He shuffled from foot to foot, fidgeting with a pen as he tried to think.

“This is useless,” Derek said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “We’re not going to learn anything.”

“Hey,” Stiles said softly, absentmindedly reaching out and setting his hand on Derek’s forearm. He felt the mess of thoughts fade away, his mind drawn into focus.

His eyes widened with realisation as he turned to look at his hand, then up at Derek.

Derek was looking back at him with the same expression.

“Whoa,” was all Stiles managed to say.

“Yeah,” Derek replied.

Stiles pulled his hand back from Derek’s arm, but the feeling of clarity lingered.

“I guess this means we’re…”

“Soulmates,” Derek finished, his voice quiet. “I guess so.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” Stiles muttered, feeling his cheeks flush pink.

He turned back to the books that were scattered across the desk, pulling one forward as he read the fine black text printed on the page.

“I think I have it,” Stiles said, pushing the book towards Derek slightly. He pointed at one of the lines. “There.”

Derek turned his pale aventurine eyes to the page, reading the section of text that Stiles pointed to.

“I think you got it,” Derek repeated back to him. “I’ll go tell the others. Good work.”

Derek leant over, pressing a tender kiss to Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles froze, his face burning bright red.

Derek realised what he did a second later, his eyes widening with shock. His lips moved around unspoken words.

“We’ll talk about what just happened later. You should go tell the others what we found,” Stiles said.

“Right,” Derek said, hurrying out of the room.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Stiles sank to his knees, curling up on himself as he was overwhelmed by the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. His heart pounded against his ribs. He bit into his lip as a soft smile crept onto his face.

They’d talk about it later, but there was no denying what had happened. There was no denying that there was a connection between them. And it felt right.


	2. Chapter 2

_You have 24 hours before she’s buried among the ruins of the past._

Stiles had been staring at those words for the past twenty-two hours, trying to piece together fragments of the case before they ran out of time. His dad had given him a copy of the case file and Derek had let him tape up the pieces of paper, witness statements, and photographs of evidence. Pieces of red string had been taped to the wall, drawing lines between the scattered pieces of paper.

But his eyes were always drawn back to the note that had been left taped to the loft door.

_You have 24 hours before she’s buried among the ruins of the past._

He could hear Derek’s footstep behind him, his heavy boots thumping the polished concrete floor as he paced back and forth.

Stiles felt his heart sink. This was stressful—terrifying—for him, he could only imagine what Derek was feeling.

Cora had been missing for twenty-four hours already when Stiles and Derek found the note taped to their door. And now, Stiles was no closer to finding her than he was twenty-two hours ago.

He felt his chest tighten, his heart hammering against his ribs. His mind was a mess of thoughts and fragments of information that he couldn’t make any sense of. Tears of frustration welled in his eyes.

He reached out behind him.

“What?” Derek asked.

Stiles didn’t say anything; he made a grabby motion with his hand and Derek seemed to get the message. He took a step forward and slid his hand into Stiles’, letting the wave of calmness roll over him.

It didn’t seem to help Stiles as much. The young man grew more frustrated.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked softly, taking a step closer to Stiles.

“I can’t…” He drew in a sharp breath. “It’s like it’s on the tip of my tongue. I know the answer, I just can’t…”

“Maybe a stronger connection would create a stronger reaction,” Derek suggested.

Stiles turned to face him. “What?”

Derek leant forward and took Stiles’ face in his hands, tilting his head and bringing their lips together.

Stiles let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped. His eyes fluttered shut as he looped his arms around Derek’s neck, desperately clinging to his jacket.

Derek dropped a hand to Stiles’ waist and pulled him close, enveloping him in his warmth.

Stiles sighed in return, weaving his fingers into Derek’s hair as the last lingering wisp of hazy thoughts drifted away.

Derek drew back, resting his forehead against Stiles’.

Stiles eyes flew open wide, a look of realisation settling on his face. He cupped Derek’s face in his hand, bringing his lips to Derek’s in a chaste kiss before sprinting towards the door.

“Stiles,” Derek called out, running after him.

“I worked it out,” Stiles shouted back over his shoulder. “But we have to hurry!”

Stiles slammed his foot down on the brake as he pulled up before the charred ruins of the Hale house. The old wooden siding was blackened by soot and scarred by the fire, the withered boards buckling and splintered.

The property had been fenced off by a silver chain-link fence that the demolition crew had set up, one of the sections left open so that the workmen could access the property.

Stiles shoved the Jeep into park and threw himself out the door, sprinting towards the house.

“Stop!” he shouted, running past the fence.

“Hey!” one of the workers barked at him. “You can’t be here.”

Stiles ignored him, sprinting past the workers who tried to stop him and running towards the front door that hung off its hinges.

Derek stepped between Stiles and one of the workers who tried to grab him, hastily explaining that he was the owner of the property and someone was inside the building. He didn’t give the man a chance to respond, running after Stiles and disappearing into the cold shadows of the house.

Stiles sprinted down the hallway, pivoting his ankle and bouncing off the old door frame as he staggered into the kitchen. He pushed aside some of the debris that had fallen over the cellar door, hauling it open and running down the withered stairs that led into the basement.

That’s where they found her, her hands and feet shackled to the thick supporting beam in the centre of the room and a gag had been shoved in her mouth. She looked at them with wide eyes full of terror, her face streaked with tears and black ash.

Stiles vaulted over a fallen pillar and ran to her side, kneeling beside her.

“It’s okay,” he said softly as he carefully pried the gag out of her mouth. “You’re okay.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest.

“I found her!” he called over his shoulder.

Derek’s heavy footsteps pounded against the floor as he ran through the house and into the basement. He ran to their side, breaking open the iron shackles.

Stiles let Derek take her from him, watching as the man lifted his sister into his arms and carried her out of the house, to where the flashing lights of the police and paramedics awaited them.

The workers watched on with expressions of shock, surprise, and horror as some realised what could have happened.

Stiles watched them, one by one, taking in each of their expressions.

His eyes fell on one of the men at the back of the crowd—the only one who didn’t seem surprised. Rather, he looked angry. His face was set in a cold scowl, his icy glare following Derek as the paramedics rushed over to his side.

Derek set his sister down on the ground, staying by her as the paramedics looked her over.

“Der,” Stiles said quietly, just loud enough that it caught his attention. “Over there.”

Derek looked towards the man, his eyes widening with recognition. “He’s one of Argent’s men.”

The man caught on to them. He dropped the sledgehammer he was holding and turned to run into the forest, but Parrish was too fast for him.

The deputy threw himself into the man, tackling him to the ground. He rolled the man onto his stomach, fastening a pair of handcuffs around his wrists before hauling him to his feet and dragging him towards a squad car.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
